


The Heiress of Liberty

by AllKindsOfEverything



Category: Father Brown (2013)
Genre: Gen, did you know that this fandom is so small we don't have a proper Character Name list?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-09-21 03:38:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9529964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllKindsOfEverything/pseuds/AllKindsOfEverything
Summary: On a crisp winter morning Father Brown finds himself with an unexpected guest. But who is she; and more importantly whose?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a WiP, so if you could leave me a comment to cheer me on that would be greatly appreciated. Constructive criticism welcomed!

Father Brown stepped into his church, brushing snowflakes off his sleeves before they had the chance to melt as he walked up the aisle.  
Taking a bow before the altar like every other morning, he stopped in his tracks when he heard a small noise coming from the second row of pews.  
He furrowed his brow and went to investigate.

~*~*~*~ 

"I'm afraid we're running low on sugar, Father," Mrs McCarthy said over her shoulder while she finished preparing the tea when she heard him enter. Picking up the tray, she turned towards him, her eyes widening when she saw him put a wicker basket down on the kitchen table. She glanced down at the tray, then quickly disposed of it and walked over to peek into the basket. "Oh," she pressed her hand to her chest, her heart leaping at the sight of the tiny bundle, sleeping peacefully, wrapped up in a soft woollen blanket.

~*~*~*~

About an hour later, Lady Felicia walked by the cottage, surprised to hear wailing noises drift through the half-open window of the father's kitchen.  
How intriguing.  
"Morning, Father," she chirped as she entered, receiving an annoyed glance from Mrs M while the baby she was holding changed key and increased its volume.

"Ah, Lady Felicia."

The father looked rather agonised as he returned her greeting, so she flashed him a compassionate smile.

"Who's your delightful guest?" The lady nodded towards the child on Mrs McCarthy's shoulder and smirked, the smile falling from her face when Mrs M turned and glared at her.

"She hasn't stopped crying ever since she woke up," Mrs M moaned as she closed the distance between them, "Here; you try." With that, she held the infant out to Lady Montague, who in turn took a step back, shaking her head vigorously.

"Oh, I don't think," she broke off as her back hit the cupboard behind her.

"Nonsense," Mrs McCarthy pushed the baby into Lady Felicia's arms, secretly enjoying the rather shocked expression on the usually so smug face.

Lady Felicia unconsciously held her breath, frozen to the spot, instinctively cupping the back of the child's head in her gloved hand as its cheek came to rest against her chest. 

To the surprise of all three adults, the crying stopped almost immediately.

Mrs McCarthy crossed her arms over her chest, her eyebrow raised, "Huh." She looked into the widened eyes of the woman in front of her, feeling a mixture of remorse and envy.

Lady Felicia became aware of the breath she was holding and slowly released it through her nose, otherwise keeping perfectly still. She could feel the child grab at the fur collar of her coat, the soft little head turning so the forehead was now pressed heavily against her sternum. Blinking several times, she tried to collect herself, dipping the baby back slightly to look at it.  
She smiled at the brilliant blue eyes which seemed to observe her keenly. "Hello," she whispered gently. The little mouth curled into a toothless grin. She couldn't help but match it.

Next to her, Mrs McCarthy huffed, "Well, I guess you'll be staying for breakfast."


	2. Chapter 2

"You should really call the Inspector and tell him about it," Lady Felicia said and took another sip of tea, the baby securely cradled in the crook of her arm as she sat at the head of the kitchen table, still wearing her coat.  
She had tried to put the girl down long enough to shed it twice over the past twenty minutes, only to pick her back up again moments later to prevent their eardrums from bursting, admitting defeat and letting her snuggle up against the heavy woollen material. They still didn't know much about the girl, but she most certainly had an excellent pair of lungs. 

"The child was left in my church," Father Brown shook his head, studying the note he had found inside the basket, "if I go to the police the mother will get into trouble." He slipped it back into the envelope it had come in and placed it on the kitchen table.

"Well, I have an appointment in half an hour, so you will have to find a method of keeping her quiet other than me holding her." She shrugged with an air of chagrin and looked down at the infant. Only now did she realise that the girl was currently asleep. She felt an odd warmth spread through her from the middle of her chest. Forcing the smile off her face, she mentally scolded herself, _'She is not yours. Do not get fond of her.'_

"Morning." Sid leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes roaming over the occupants of the kitchen. When he spotted the baby, he raised his eyebrows. "All right, what did I miss?"

"Sidney," the Father smiled. "Good morning. It appears we have found ourselves in charge of taking care of an infant."

Turning in her seat, Lady Felicia looked up at him with raised eyebrows, "We?"

"Well, you are the only one able to calm her," the father stated with an apologetic smile.

Lady Montague pulled a face for a second, but then shrugged her slim shoulders lightly, nodding in reluctant agreement. There was no denying that she was indeed rather good at keeping the child quiet.

"Where did it come from?" Sidney shoved his hands in his pockets and shuffled over to take a closer look.

"Since it is obvious to me that you do not need to be told about the birds and the bees, I'll just tell you that she was left in the church."

"Left, ey?" He leaned down and grinned when the baby opened its eyes sleepily. "Hello, little bugger?"

The little face distorted in slow motion as the child woke up. Just before she had enough time to make up her mind and scream the house down, Sid stuck the tip of his index finger into the baby's mouth and it closed its lips around the digit, suckling vigorously. "Yeah, that's better, ey?" Sid grinned, then caught Lady Felicia's eye. "Wot?"

"Please tell me you've washed your hands recently?"

He looked down at where the infant was still happily sucking on his finger, then back at his employer. "Well, uh. Sure. 'Course I have ... _recently_."

Felicia's upper lip curled into a smirk. 'Recently' was such a wonderfully nondescript word. She had chosen it well.

"So," Sidney addressed the Father, "whose is it then?"

"That, my dear Sid, is the mystery we need to solve."

"Any clues yet?" Sid pulled his finger out of the baby’s mouth with an audible plop, much to its dismay. He looked on as Lady Felicia replaced it with her well-manicured pinkie, trying not to chuckle at the expression that crossed her face.

"Well, I found this," Father Brown picked up the unmarked envelope from the table, "in the basket she came in."

Sid took out the note it held and read aloud, "Please keep her safe while I can't." His eyebrows rose as he stared into the distance for a long moment and then huffed, "well, that's not exactly a lot to go on?" He handed the piece of paper and its wrapper back to the priest with a questioning look.

"No." Father Brown nodded, "indeed it's not."

"I hate to be the one to break up this party," everyone turned to Lady Felicia as she stood up, her voice holding an edge of agitation, "but I do have an appointment to keep and I simply _mustn't_ be late." She handed the child over to Mrs McCarthy, grabbed her purse and gloves from the table and turned to leave, stopping in her tracks when the girl began fussing. She pressed her eyes close, her hands curling around her clutch, her shoulders raised as she battled with herself. After a second, she pulled herself up to her full height and lifted her chin defiantly, calling over her shoulder without turning back, "Come along, Sidney!"

Sid looked from Father Brown to the infant, to Mrs McCarthy, and then towards the now empty doorway as the baby's cries grew louder. Addressing the father he asked, "What's wrong with her?"

Father Brown smiled reassuringly, "I think you better go after her." He looked after him as he left, then turned to face Mrs McCarthy, who stood next to him with a helpless look on her face, and smiled awkwardly.  
A growing part of him really hoped that they had ear plugs in the house.

~*~*~*~

Lady Felicia Montague stared out of the car window unblinkingly. She didn't really see the beautiful countryside they were driving through, a pair of bright blue eyes and a toothless smile occupying her mind.  
She had felt so proud when the girl had stopped crying. It had stirred something inside of her. Something that had been buried for a long time.  
Taking a deep breath, she could remember the scent of the baby's head as it rested against her chest. She sucked in her bottom lip. How could such a small creature make her heart ache so much? To have her asleep in her arms, so tiny and soft and trusting.... Felicia swallowed hard. No, she couldn't allow herself to follow that trail of thought any further. Sitting up straight, she focussed he eyes on the landscape outside, forcing herself to come back to the here and now.  
Nothing good could come of this.


	3. Chapter 3

It seemed to have taken an eternity for the child to get too tired from screaming to stop on its own. Mrs McCarthy sighed in relief as she gazed down into the make-shift crib. So tiny and yet so loud. It was quite impressive. If only she could find a way to keep her from crying so much. She was quite a lovely baby. Especially when she was asleep.

Trouble was that she would have to go out and find something for her to eat; which would mean leaving her here with the Father. Not that Father Brown was not trustworthy, no... it was just that this was a baby. And he had fled the room not five minutes after Lady Felicia and Sidney had left. He had never been good with loud noises. Poor dear.

Still, she couldn't take her into town, so he would have to look after her while she made some discreet inquiries with Mrs Lockwood at the corner shop. If anybody knew anything it would be Margaret. And she could purchase some formula and dummies while they were talking without having to fear half the neighbourhood getting wind.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Father Brown had hoped he could just stay in his study and not disturb the child while his secretary was out, but in the end the craving for tea had brought him back into the room.

He tiptoed towards the kettle, glancing in the general direction of the wicker basket on the table, grateful that the child didn't stir.

Grimacing at the harsh sound of water pouring into the empty container, he sighed in relief as the wailing he had expected didn't come.

He put the kettle to a boil, making sure to leave off the whistle, hoping that the sound of boiling water would not disturb the angelic slumber of his little guest. She was quite cute when she was asleep.

If only he could find out whom she belonged to. "Please keep her safe while I can't," he mumbled to himself, remembering the piece of paper he had collected from the basket. Whoever had left her in his church hadn't even given them her name. Most peculiar. And quite inconvenient, to be honest.

He succeeded in finishing making the tea without waking the child. A relieved smile spread over his face as he looked down at her relaxed features. This wasn't so bad? Maybe he could sit with her after all. Pulling back the chair, he winced as it scraped over the floor with a high-pitched screech. Holding his breath, he closed his eyes as the baby woke up. ...the Lord was testing him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I really need feedback.   
> I'm at a point where I'm petty enough to say "if I don't know you're enjoying this, why bother posting?".


	4. Chapter 4

When Mrs McCarthy returned, she was surprised to see the Father sitting in the kitchen, reading the newspaper, with one hand in the baby's basket, which stood beside him on the table.  
She sat the groceries down on the counter and stepped closer, furrowing her brow when she saw the wet corner of a kitchen towel in the baby's mouth, Father Brown holding it in place as the girl gnawed on it toothlessly.  
"Really, Father," she scolded, but didn't receive any reply. Huffing in frustration, she boxed his shoulder lightly.

"Hmm?" He turned towards her, his eyes full of surprise. "Oh, Mrs McCarthy; you're back." The Father smiled and pulled the earplugs out of his ears. "She was hungry."

"So you saw it fit to put a tea towel in her mouth to keep her quiet?" Mrs M asked in a scandalised voice.

"What?" He gazed into the basket, at the tea towel in his hand. "Oh," he pulled it away slightly and the child started fussing, "no." Turning towards his secretary he proceeded to dip the corner of the towel into a waiting glass of milk and then placed it into the baby's mouth again. "You see, I couldn't find anything better."

Crossing her arms over her chest, Mrs McCarthy huffed. "Well, it's a good thing I came prepared then." With that she went to retrieve one of the brown paper bags Mrs Lockwood had provided her with and produced a baby bottle, three spare teats and a dummy.

Father Brown smiled broadly, "Splendid."

~*~*~*~

Once the child was fed she was much easier to handle. She still didn't quite like being picked up, but at least the loud outbursts had been taken care of, mainly thanks to the dummy.

"So we are none the wiser." The Father sighed, placing his tea cup back on its saucer.

"I'm afraid so," Mrs McCarthy nodded and mirrored his action.

They stayed quiet for some time, both lost in thought. If only they had more to go on. Right now they were not getting anywhere.

Bridget shifted in her chair, "We should really call the inspector."

Raising his eyebrows, his gaze still fixed on his cup, Father Brown nodded lightly and took a deep breath. "Soon." Looking at the woman sitting opposite him, he smiled apologetically, "Let's give it 'till tomorrow, shall we?"

"But... where will she sleep? Providing she _will_ sleep at all after the day she's had."

Just then Lady Felicia breezed into the room. "Oh, you found a way to soothe her," she quickly hid her slight disappointment behind a serene smile, clutching her gloves in her hand. "Good. You won't need me then after all. Sidney?" She was turning to leave when Father Brown's voice stopped her.

"Well, actually...."

She turned back and gazed at him questioningly.

~*~*~*~

Mrs McCarthy smiled to herself; that woman certainly had perfect timing sometimes.

"You can't be serious," Felicia said in disbelief, still standing half-way through the door.

"It would help us ever so much," Father Brown looked at her in a way he hoped would convince her.

"Why can't she just stay here? She seems perfectly happy to me?" Lady Montague felt strangely agitated.

No sooner had she uttered those words than the child started clamouring in her basket. Everyone looked from the basket to Lady Felicia, who in turn took a small step back and shook her head. "No."

"Please?"

To Felicia's surprise it was Mrs McCarthy who had spoken. She watched the older woman gently pick up the still crying baby and walk towards her, feeling her heart rise up in her throat when Mrs M placed the girl in her arms. The girl quieted down almost immediately.

"She likes you best," Bridget admitted in a gentle voice.

Looking from her unlikely friend to the baby in her arms, her heart melted.  
Before she could say anything in return, Mrs McCarthy continued, in her usual, clipped tone.

"But if you don't think you're capable of taking care of her for a night, then," she made a motion to take the child from Lady Montague again, hiding her triumphant smile as best as she could when the lady took a step back, hugging the girl closer to her chest.

"Now wait a minute, I never said that-"

"-Oh, don't worry, nobody will hold it against you."

Felicia turned to her side to keep the baby out of Mrs M's reach, glaring at her over her raised shoulder, "Mrs McCarthy!"  
The harshness of her tone made its recipient stop in her tracks.

Lady Montague fixed her with a stern look, "I have you know that I am _perfectly_ capable of taking care of a child!" She felt the little girl wiggle against her, clearly upset by her raised voice, and looked down immediately, gently cooing, "Oh, Sweetie. Did I scare you?" She brushed her finger over the soft little cheek, rocking her, "I'm sorry." She was rewarded by a tiny hand grabbing her finger. "There now." Glancing down into those big, blue eyes, an utter sense of calm washed over her, a gentle smile taking over her features, and for a perfect moment time seemed to stand still.

"Well, that's settled then." Mrs McCarthy nodded.

Bridget's voice pulled Felicia back to reality and she turned her head towards her. Something about the carefully arranged features of the woman in front of her told her that she had been played. Strangely enough, for once, she didn't really mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A "dummy" is a pacifier, right?  
> That's what my dictionary told me.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am treating you to the longest chapter yet after not posting for a month... hope you enjoy & leave me a note!

He moved in the shadows; which wasn't much of a feat, since it was about two in the morning.  
Crouching next to the wall of the impressive mansion, he looked up. If he wasn't mistaken - and he made a point of never being wrong when it came to break-ins - the corner window on the first floor was Lady Felicia's bedroom.  
His eyes followed the path of the ivy on the conveniently placed trellis he was next to. Child's play.  
After one final look around to make sure nobody was taking an unscheduled stroll around the grounds he began his ascend. 

The window was locked, of course, but that was no obstacle for Hercule Flambeau. He made quick work of it, slipping into the room without making a sound, the heavy blackout curtains brushing against his back while he closed the latch.   
Standing still for a moment, he strained his ears. Not a sound, except for the crackling of wood as it burned in the fireplace. Good.

He all but slithered through the velvet curtains, making sure to block out as much of the light of the full moon as he could. His steps were measured while his eyes readjusted.  
There she was; with the baby.  
Flambeau was surprised to find his heart in his throat. 

Slowly moving closer, he studied the sight before him. Lady Felicia was lying on her back, one delicate hand on the pillow next to her face, the other resting lightly on the back of the infant lying on her chest with its ear over her heart. He couldn't help but smile.  
Never had he thought she would keep the child this close. In all honesty, he had been surprised to find out that she had taken her with her in the first place. His original plan had seen him steal into the priest's cottage, not climb up the side of a mansion. 

He was tempted to sit next to her, but for the moment decided against it. Better not take chances right now. Instead he knelt down next to the bed and leaned forward, studying the features of the baby in her arms.  
The corner of his lips curled up; the tiny mouth was open, a steady stream of drool being absorbed by the exquisite silk of Lady Felicia's pyjamas. She was adorable. Even with her eyes closed he could see the resemblance.  
Reaching out slowly, he moved to touch the child's head. 

Felicia jumped, instinctively rolling onto her side, shielding the child from the intruder. She was about to scream, but when she looked over her shoulder, she was too surprised by whom she saw. "Monsieur Flambeau?" her voice sounded strangely breathless. 

They stared at each other in shock until the baby began wailing at full volume. Leaning over the child, Felicia stroke its cheek, hushing it. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. Did I startle you?" She gave into the urge to press a gentle kiss to the girl's forehead, brushing her lips against the soft skin, humming soothingly, completely forgetting the man on the other side of her. 

Flambeau watched her in implicit amazement as she continued to calm the child. He couldn't quite place the peculiar mixture of feelings inside his chest, but it wasn't exactly uncomfortable. 

When the baby had settled, Felicia turned her head towards Flambeau, who was still kneeling next to the bed. "What are you doing here?" 

He quickly regained his composure and gave her one of his trademark looks, "Would you believe it if I told you I wanted to see you?" 

Felicia smirked, "Hardly." 

"Well," he stood up and sat down on the edge of her bed, next to her hip, "then maybe I came here to burgle you." 

Unsurprised by his boldness, she sat up, cradling the baby against her chest, her clipped voice supported by the defensive look on her face. "The safe's in Monty's study. On the ground floor. Second door to the right as you come down the stairs. Can't miss it." 

His eyes twinkled at her, "Are you always this cooperative with burglars?" 

"Only when I'm holding a baby," she quipped. 

Staying silent for a moment, he leaned back slightly, studying her before nodding, "It suits you." 

"Well, it seems to be the only way to keep her from crying." Felicia tried to sound nonchalant. 

"Clever child." Shifting his weight, Flambeau moved closer, a lopsided grin on his handsome face as he looked at the baby, "But then, that was to be expected; given her heritage." 

She watched him reach out and stroke the girl's cheek, furrowing her brow, "You know whose she is?" 

Flambeau's smile widened when the little girl grabbed his finger, pulling it towards her mouth. He let her and looked at Lady Felicia, "Don't you?" 

"There was a note with her, but it wasn't signed." 

Looking back down at the baby, he gently but firmly extracted his finger from her and shrugged, "I assume she was in somewhat of a hurry. Being chased by police tends to do that to you."  
When Lady Felicia remained quiet, he continued in a low, tender voice as his eyes met hers again, "Marianne." 

Felicia's eyes widened, her mouth ajar as she stared at him. A moment passed and she blinked several times, a mischievous smile creeping over her features. "So," her grin widened, "you're a grandfather now." She suppressed a giggle at the uncomfortable expression he quickly tried to hide. 

"Believe me; I was rather taken aback when I found out." He felt strangely warm under his collar, mentally blaming the temperature in the room, knowing he was lying to himself. 

"It makes you sound so old," she was enjoying this far too much to stop yet. 

"I think I am far from being mistaken for Father Christmas." 

"For now," Felicia smirked, relenting when she saw him brace his shoulders defensively. "Don't worry; men only get more distinguished with age. I'm sure you'd look good with a bit of grey around the temples." There it was again, that boyish smirk. 

"You think so?" 

She matched his grin, "I do." 

Neither of them wanted to be the first to look away. 

Flambeau became oddly aware of his surroundings. If it hadn't been for his granddaughter in her arms, he would probably have leaned in and kissed the lady in front of him right now.  
After all; they were in her bedroom, at night, and the light from the fireplaces was making her already impressive eyes even more beautiful. 

Felicia felt a flutter of excitement at the way he was staring at her. Part of her hoped that he would lean forward the rest of the way and just kiss her. Maybe she should.  
No; not with the baby right here. And besides; she should be scolding him for breaking into her bedroom in the first place.  
Finally breaking eye-contact to look down at the girl when she felt a tiny hand grab the lapel of her pyjamas, pulling it downwards, she chuckled and gently untangled the fabric from between damp fingers before the child had time to stuff it into her mouth.

Meeting Flambeau’s eyes, she asked in a low voice, "What's her name?" 

"Madeleine." 

"Madeleine", Felicia reflected, and smiled down at the girl. "Hello, Madeleine." The child grinned, seemingly in response to her name. "It's nice to meet you properly."  
She examined the little face closely. "Yes, I can see it now," she brushed a fingertip across the baby's forehead, "You do look like your mother." 

Reaching out, Flambeau took hold of one little hand, huffing in amusement. "Poor child was almost named Frederica, can you imagine?" 

Felicia furrowed her brow and looked at him. "What's wrong with Frederica?" 

He raised his eyebrows, "Come on." 

"Frederica Delacroix sounds perfectly fine to my ears." Smirking, she added, "and she could have inherited your handkerchiefs." 

Flambeau huffed again, shaking his head, "What is it with women and monograms? The sole reason the girl's name now begins with an M is because of embroidered handkerchiefs as well." 

"Well, women tend to have a sentimental streak,” Felicia said, feeling strangely defensive, "We don't get to keep our last name, so this is the one small victory we can achieve without too much fuss." 

Furrowing his brow, he studied her in silence for a long moment before finally admitting, "I never thought of that." 

"Men rarely do," she shrugged, looking down at the baby in her arms to avoid the penetrating look he gave her. After a moment of silence, she found the confidence to gaze at him again, "So what exactly _did_ you come for?" 

"For her, of course," he pointed his chin towards the child, seemingly surprised by the question. 

Her eyebrows rose and she tilted her head in disbelief, "You mean to tell me you wanted to steal her out of this room, climb down the trellis with her and then ride until morning?" 

Flambeau shrugged, "Partially. My plan didn't include horses." 

"I see." She stayed quiet for a moment. Shifting the child to her shoulder, she straightened her back, "I hope you realise I won't give her to you without a fight." 

He tilted his head, huffing in amusement, "Why's that?" 

Felicia raised her chin defiantly, "She has been entrusted into my care." 

Apparently surprised by her words, he chose his carefully, "I am ... family. Who better to hand her over to than me?" 

"The only person I'll ' _hand her over to_ ' will be her mother." Felicia cupped the back of the child’s head, bouncing her slightly when the timbre of her voice agitated the girl. She brushed her cheek against the dark, downy hair on the baby’s head, defiance glowing in her eyes, "Try and take her from me and I promise you'll have to kill me first."

He tried to laugh it off, "How dramatic."

"I mean it." She replied without missing a beat.

Flambeau studied her closely. There was something in her eyes, in her whole posture that made it abundantly clear that she wasn’t joking. "I believe you," he appeased.

"Good." The unconscious tension left her shoulders.

Shifting slightly, he gave her one of his most suave looks, "So, may I at least visit her then?"

It seemed to have the desired effect, when a slow smile crept back across the lady’s face, "You may," she agreed, but when his smile became too triumphant for her liking added, "In the living room. With an appointment. At a reasonable hour."

"Fair enough," he shrugged and got up. Looking down at Lady Montague and then at his granddaughter resting comfortably in her arms, he reached out and brushed the back of his index finger across the baby’s cheek. Smiling when she yawned and snuggled further into Lady Felicia’s embrace he took a deep breath.   
He forced himself to step away before that odd sense of domesticity he felt could get the better of him, and headed towards the window he had entered through.

Felicia furrowed her brow as she quickly slipped out of bed, her bare feet silent on the luxurious carpet, Madeleine securely cradled in the crook of her arm. "Where do you think you're going?"

Letting go of the thick velvet curtain he had just drawn aside, he turned, surprised to find her standing right in front of him in the pale moonlight.  
Flambeau raised his brow, "Out?"

Shifting the baby to her other arm, she shook her head at him, pointing her chin towards the window, "Not through there you won't."

He smirked, taking a small step towards her, "Don't worry, I won't fall; I never do."

Mirroring his actions so they now stood mere inches apart, she challenged him. "You will most certainly not be seen climbing down the ivy outside my bedroom in the middle of the night. You'll go out the side door, like a good house guest."

If he were to lean in another two inches, he could have easily brushed his nose against hers. The thought amused him, colouring his voice. "I'm your house guest now?"

She glared at him, but he held her gaze. Huffing, she turned around, calling over her shoulder, "Come along now."

Smirking, he strolled after her. 

~*~*~*~

It didn't escape his keen eyes that she wasn't wearing any shoes and for a brief moment, he wondered whether her feet were cold as he followed her down the staircase.  
She didn't bother to turn on any lights; apparently the moon was bright enough in her opinion. He didn't really mind either way.

When they arrived at the side entrance, she turned towards him, repositioning the girl in her arms, so her forehead was against the side of her neck, facing him. "Say goodnight to your grandad now, Madeleine." 

He smirked at her cat-like grin. "You're enjoying that, aren't you?" 

Felicia wrinkled her nose, "Immensely." 

Stepping closer, he cocked his head to one side, "Any chance of you stopping anytime soon?"

Pretending to think it over for a moment, she finally shook her head. "Not in the foreseeable future, no." Opening the door for him, she stepped aside to let him pass. "Good night, Monsieur Flambeau."

"Good night, Lady Felicia." he took her hand and bent elegantly, brushing his lips against her knuckles, then lingering a long moment, gazing up into her eyes. He delighted in the expression his actions coaxed out of her.  
Straightening up, he pulled her closer slightly and just when the first wave of surprise had passed, he brought his mouth close to her ear. "Take good care of her."

She turned her head to look at him, their lips inches apart, "I will." 

He took a small step back and glanced at the girl in her arms, cupping her head gently. "Be good, _ma petite_." Bending down, he placed a gentle kiss to Madeleine's brow, breathing in deeply. He had only met this little one twice in her life yet, but already felt deeply connected to her. It was odd, unfamiliar, dangerous even, but he couldn't help it. This child was family, just like her mother, and he would die for her.  
Walking away at this point felt like a sort of betrayal, but he had to. So after a lingering moment, he smiled at Felicia in a silent goodbye and left. He would come back, and in the meantime the countess would be her guardian angel. Hercule couldn't think of anyone he'd have liked better for the job. 

Swaying Madeleine gently, absently humming a lullaby to her in a low, soothing tone, Felicia watched him walk down the driveway. Never before had she thought of Hercule Flambeau as someone with a soft spot for babies. Well, maybe it was just this particular one. Still; seeing him interact with his granddaughter had somewhat shifted her view on him in some way.  
He had always been handsome, flirtatious, witty… but now she found herself adding kind-hearted, sweet and even gentle to the list.  
Felicia looked down at the child in her arms, chuckling when she found a tiny fist stuffing the edge of her pyjama lapel into an equally tiny mouth. "Shall we feed you before going back to sleep then?"   
Madeleine stared up at her with bright blue eyes.   
She didn't bother pulling the already soaked fabric away from the girl. Closing the door, she headed towards the kitchen. "Trust me, that formula Mrs McCarthy bought for you is a lot more filling than silk fibres and saliva."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Precious Julia pointed out to me that Felicia didn't give the safe combination to Flambeau, but I decided to leave it like it was, since I couldn't make the sentence flow with the added information.  
> And besides - I bet he could have that safe open in two shakes of a lamb's tail even without help ;o).


End file.
